


Cut Me Open Sequels

by Angelphoenixwings14



Category: Knives Out (2019)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:53:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26908435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelphoenixwings14/pseuds/Angelphoenixwings14
Summary: So Marta and Ransom lived happily ever after, but what does that happily ever after look like?This will basically be a series of smutty and/or feelsy snapshots of their life after the events of Cut Me Open.
Relationships: Marta Cabrera/Ransom Drysdale
Comments: 16
Kudos: 77





	1. You're Still Mine

**Author's Note:**

> OMG SOMEONE SAY WHAT?! 
> 
> Yeah, so I bet no one is fucking surprised that I couldn't keep away from these 2. Cut Me Open is my baby and I had so much fun writing it these two called me back, and this time it will be _all_ the fun. I can't promise a plot won't crop up at some point since they seem to sneak up on me, but right now... this is just gonna be smut and watching them be the weirdly cute and psycho dorks in love I've made them to be.
> 
> With that said, you cannot read this Porn Without Plot fic without reading my Porn WITH Plot novel [Cut Me Open](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21788254/chapters/51991048). Well... you can, but you'll probably be very confused because the events of that fic have created this version of Ransom and Marta and there will likely be references to events from that story through all of this.

Marta laughed. He loved the sound of it. Loved the way her eyes twinkled, and her smile spread so wide and beautifully around the heavenly sound. The elegant curve of those lips never looked more bitable, and he wanted to pry her mouth apart and ruin her.

He _hated_ why she was laughing.

Ransom’s lip twitched, threatening to curl in a snarl as he watched some schmuck talk her up at the Tiki bar of their expensive resort’s swimming pool area. He’d gone to the bathroom, and in the ten minutes he’d taken to take a piss, smoke his vape, and reapply some sunscreen to his fair skin (which _didn’t_ do well in the tropical climate of their current vacation spot, he was sad to say), some asshole had taken his seat at the bar and was trying to move in on what was his.

He couldn’t blame the guy, really. Marta’s skin – hell, her _everything_ \- did _really_ well in this atmosphere. The sun had tanned her several shades darker within days of them arriving, and the humidity brought a beautiful glaze to her bronze skin. Her dark hair curled about her face and shoulders (which it reached down to now), neatened by the expensive aviator sunglasses she had perched atop her head. The crimson bikini set she wore made his mouth water like some panting dog, and he knew what lay beneath. For some idiot who had no clue how perfect her tits and cunt really were, it was practically kryptonite.

He scratched at the beard growing out along his jaw. It wasn’t fully formed _just_ yet, but the facial hair felt necessary for now. His chocolate hair had grown a little longer as well, and with his own pair of expensive sunglasses shrouding his sharp blue eyes, he was a little less recognizable – something he never would’ve dreamed of trying to be. Not that it mattered when the bullet scar branding his left clavicle felt like a damn neon sign, but they _were_ on vacation. Neither wanted their local Boston fame or misfortune following them on their travels elsewhere.

Well, _usually_. Right now, Ransom wanted to bash a man’s face in.

He stalked around the bar and came up behind Marta as she let out another laugh at whatever Dimwit the Dazzling had to say. Instead of knocking Mr. Sunshine’s perfectly bleached teeth in, Ransom wrapped his arm around Marta’s exposed waist. She startled, jerking her head up to look at him before that beautiful smile spread for what it was meant to.

“Hey,” she breathed, relaxing into his hold with relief. Her legs curled toward him, and she set her hand to his chest – just shy of his scar. Ransom felt the guy’s attention hone in on it. _That’s right_.

“Beautiful,” he said smoothly, offering a pale, but charming smile to Marta. “Who’s your new friend?”

“This is Jim. He was just telling me a funny-“

“That’s nice,” Ransom cut her off. Marta felt him tense, and couldn’t help the amusement that crept into her expression. “Are you still working on that drink, or can we go swim now?” Huffing a little, Marta looked toward Jim and her smile tightened a little.

“Sorry,” she said as she lifted from her stool. “My boyfriend has no manners. It was nice to meet you,” she told Jim, pushing Ransom away from the bar even as she felt him bristle beneath her fingertips. Part of her still loved it, for some deranged reason found it hilarious when he grew haughty. That was likely in part because she knew the dewy, sweet center he hid within that crabby exterior. The other part? She knew his anger had a divinity to it.

They didn’t make it to the pool, which seemed funny when it wasn’t even ten feet away from the bar. Ransom dragged her around the side, and further off to a strangely dark alcove the resort had between the hotel and pool area. It was an alleyway of sorts, some unmarked storage door beyond their shadowed hiding place, and a long since abandoned icebox that was no longer in use. 

Ransom pushed Marta against the wall, just past the icebox for further seclusion, his hand around her throat and threatening to squeeze. She felt the cool cement of the wall seep into her back, threatening to pinch her soft skin as he pinned her harder. As she smiled, he popped his sunglasses atop his head to glower at her.

“Did you tell Jim I was your boyfriend before he started flirting with you?” Ransom growled in a low, dangerous tone. Her belly fluttered excitably.

“Of course. It was the first thing I said when he asked what I was doing – waiting for my boyfriend,” she said. 

“And you let him flirt with you anyway?”

“He was just being nice. You should try it some time,” she teased him, watching with interest as his jaws bulged when he clenched his teeth. Without warning, he lowered his other hand between her legs, pushed her suit aside and pressed his fingers into the crease of her heated folds. His chin tilted up haughtily as she gasped, eyes widening and neck straining against the tightening grip of his other hand.

“Who says I’m not nice?” He watched her face, how her eyes and lips popped wide, as he kneaded his hand against her, rubbing her clit a few times before his fingers curled further. Her entrance was already wet, left over from their romp earlier that morning. A sigh escaped him as his fingers dipped into the lingering pool further, and his urge to fill her with his come all over again made his dick swell in his swim trunks. 

He spun Marta around and shoved her up against the wall again. Her hands planted to the stone on either side of her head to keep her cheek from getting scraped as he pressed against her, cock hard against the curve of her ass. “You don’t think it’s nice when I fuck you out of your mind? Make you drool from both sets of your pretty lips,” he hissed in her ear. The way his palm slid beneath the feeble string keeping her bikini bottoms around her hip made her shiver. He pushed it down, teasing forbidden flesh.

“How about I ruin you right here?” He gave her a second to protest, but when his fingers slipped between her folds again and rubbed her clit, and all she did was groan quietly into the wall, he shoved her suit down fully. He unzipped his own enough for his giant cock to spring free. When he shoved into her, he slid in easily and bit back his hiss of pleasure. Keeping his broad frame boxing her against the wall, he tucked his hips lower so he could slam into her slick cunt deep enough to make her yip. 

“I’m gonna fuck you full of my come and make you sit next to your new friend, let it drip between your legs for a bit and ruin your suit so you remember who you belong to while you’re chatting up other guys,” he growled, listening to her try her hardest to keep her lustful chirping quiet. The humidity already had them slick with sweat, but it was the feverish lust that had Ransom panting after he thrust into her a few more times. His fingers bit into her hips unforgivingly to keep her steady while he slapped his hips into hers. Teeth grazed her jaw, and nipped at the top of her neck. 

Before another moan could escape her as his thick cock pierced deep inside her belly, he helped her keep quiet by sliding his hand up her face and pressing his fingers into her mouth. Her moan muffled, she bit into his knuckles and suckled his fingers lewdly. “Fuck,” he grunted, hips picking up speed. “Gonna let him see the marks I leave on you, how fucked out you are not ten minutes after talking to him. Is that what you wanted, Beautiful? Get me all riled up so I’d show everyone you’re still mine.”

A filthy groan left him as he said it, heart throbbing in time with his cock. “All fucking mine,” he breathed against her neck, ravenous over the reality of it. The chill of his breath made her shiver again, and it only took a few more thrusts before the fire burning them up erupted in blinding bliss. Marta squealed into his fingers, her core clenching rapturously as he filled her with his hot seed. As the intensity of their orgasm ebbed, Ransom’s grip on her eased. He didn’t let her go though, lips trailing her shoulder sweetly as his hand slipped away from her mouth to hug across her collar.

She panted, eyes starry and lips reddened. Glancing toward her shoulder, where Ransom was still lightly suckling a mark into her flesh, she chuckled. “Do you feel better now, Beast?” she asked. He hummed, but didn’t answer. He picked his head up to look at Marta. She kissed his nose, still amused by his antics because while she knew they weren’t all necessarily hot air, she thoroughly enjoyed the way he decided to vent that steam this time.

~*~

They never did make it to the pool, or back to the bar. The second they stepped out into the light and Ransom got a good look at Marta’s wild hair and glistening skin, he swept her back to their room so he could properly take his time with her gorgeous body. 

And if Ransom found Jim stumbling drunk through the halls later that night and smashed his face into a wall before anyone could see him, that was nobody’s business but his.


	2. Make Me Forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little hurt/comfort to soothe the aching soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends. Sorry it's been awhile. I've been struggling with writing lately, which is frustrating when I have so many stories I want to get out for these two. I missed them, and apparently I just needed some fluff bc this is the first steady thing I've been able to write in a long time. Hopefully it's ok.

Marta gasped awake. She jolted upright, chest heaving and body trembling. Sweat adhered her nightgown to her figure. Her hair, which curled about her neck thanks to the humidity, only worsened her discomfort by making her skin crawl. Dazed, she fought with the sheets twisted around her leg with one hand.

“What’s wrong?” Ransom’s voice cut through the darkness, and her heart gave a painful, fearful jolt. 

“Nothing. I’m fine.” The second the words left her mouth, her stomach roiled. Grimacing, she finally wrenched the sheets off her legs and fled from the bed. Their current hotel suite was large, but nowhere near the lengths of a mansion. Getting across the room and into the bathroom to puke her guts up in the toilet was a breeze compared to some of the treks she’d had to make.

She was still heaving over the toilet when she felt more than saw Ransom’s presence hovering in the doorway. 

“You wanna try that again?” he growled. She spared him a glance, and while she’d foregone turning a light on, the full moon filled their suite with enough light for her to make out enough of his pale features. The way he leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his bare ( _glorious_ ) chest, conveyed the same message his voice did. Annoyance, the sort of arrogant aloofness he was so famous for that said ‘I can’t believe you dragged me out of bed for this shit’.

She knew better. Though even now, she caught herself doubting it sometimes.

But only Marta saw the way his lips twitched to briefly soften the tight line they were drawn in. The way his casual lean masked how tense his muscles were. That the gleam in his cold eyes reflected worry instead of ire. Ransom was a master of using attitude to hide his emotions, but she saw every little chip in his armor and still marveled at how all of them were now real.

She took a breath and bowed her head, before flushing the toilet. She moved to the sink without a word to rinse her mouth out, grabbing for their travel-sized mouthwash. Ransom’s teeth grit together and he rolled his eyes, but didn’t interrupt her ritual. When she set the mouthwash down and spit, he caught the glaze in her eyes through the mirror. He shifted forward with slow steps and uncrossed his arms.

Catching her wrist with his fingers, he pulled her toward him and wrapped his arms around her. Marta _never_ would have thought a hug from Ransom could be comforting, but his thick muscles had become a haven of sorts, warm and safe and delectably cozy. The tension slipped away from her each passing second, and her eyes closed so his cinnamon-smoked scent could overwhelm her.

“Which one was it?” he asked after a few moments of simply holding her.

“It was… all of it,” she mumbled against his chest. And just like that, the tension returned. Emotions bubbled up her chest, made her heart feel heavy and pained. “Its been a year,” she whispered.

“I know.” She blinked over welling tears, the simple understanding shifting the weight onto them both. It let Marta think a little more clearly, though half her attention remained on how her cheek compressed to his chest, grounding her to the present moment. To the man who held her close. It was still hard to reconcile all the ugliness that laid between them, a year's worth of mayhem that started with the death of Harlan. Their foundation had built on lies and murder, and she still wondered how she could feel so safe with someone who had once tried to kill her.

But she did. God, she did. She felt the weight of the lives lost. They plagued her dreams, and she still had nasty bouts of anxiety from the terrifying situations Ransom had coerced them into over the last year. She’d never find solace in all the pain their story had caused, but she didn’t regret where it all had taken her anymore. 

Drawing back, she looked up at Ransom and traced the shadowed angles of his face. He watched her with a glint in his eye, though his expression remained stony otherwise, like he was waiting for her retribution. Instead she reached her hand up to trace his jaw and whispered, “Say it.”

He knew she wanted their simple _I’m yours_ , that she’d be happy with what he could give, but it felt… inadequate, given the circumstances. Setting his palm atop her hand, he curled his fingers between hers and his jaw and lowered their hands toward his collarbone.

“I love you,” he said. Any other day, he’d revel in a not-so-subtle manner at the way she gasped, but today he couldn’t tease her. He just set her hand atop the bullet scar he’d taken for her and reminded, “I’d do anything for you.” She flattened her palm atop the little knot of a scar.

“Make me forget.” Her dark gaze met his, and he tilted his head as he wound his fingers around a few stray locks of her hair.

“You’re so dramatic,” he murmured, and a smile flickered over his face when she laughed.

“ _Poetic,_ ” she corrected, holding her head up high. His fingers trickled along her jaw, her twinkling eyes making that smile twitch back over his lips as he leaned forward. They’d never forget, but the tender way their lips touched was a worthy distraction for a time. As was the way his other hand skimmed up the back of her sheer chemise. With a breathy moan, Marta sunk against him. Ransom wrapped his arms around her and carried her back to bed, where he planned to take his sweet time making Marta forget her own name, let alone the nightmare that had woken her.


End file.
